Thursday, May 10, 2007

Hummingbirds Return from Mexico, and I Made it to Southern Recycling!

My guilt level shot up Sunday afternoon when I saw hummingbirds on the deck looking for supper. Here they had made it all the way to Mexico and back, and I had failed to have their sugar water ready for them. The next day I looked up our two feeders stored over winter in the garage. Yesterday I finally made their treat and hung a feeder on each end of the deck.

Sitting on the swing there last night reading, the little birds kept the air humming with their fast-beating wings. At the same time, the martins were chirping and swooping by from their perches on the nearby house. At the edge of the lawn, the geese were making their nightly noise as they zoomed in flight across the lake usually in sets of three. Frankly, I did not read very many pages as I watched and listened to the evening show.

Earlier in the evening, Gerald planned to haul our trash to the burning pit he created northeast of our house in the meadow. After loading it all on the “mule,” he noticed the seven deer feasting there and called to me to check them out. So before I sat on the deck, I sat on the front porch watching the deer. They bravely stayed there as they watched Gerald approaching and didn‘t budge until he was almost upon them with his vehicle. Then they all gracefully loped south.

I’ve been planting a few flowers around the large rocks Gerald placed beside his shop on the edge of our front yard. Not too many of the flowers we planted last summer survived. As I poke around planting, I jump every once in awhile when I suddenly realize that what looks like grey mud is moving. We have several fat frogs making a home there, and once I get over the startle, I love seeing them.

Since I had a Trail of Tears Association Board meeting this evening in Carbondale, I used the trip to get some errands done. I stopped in Marion at our daughter’s, and then went on to get a stuffed pretzel at The Mix in Carterville for a quick lunch. Next, I checked out Barnes and Noble on the edge of Carbondale and bought a book by Roger Lipe that I had been wanting. Then I spent a happy hour wondering through Hobby Lobby giving my eyes a feast and thinking of possible future Christmas gifts.

My main goal, however, was to finish the task I did not accomplish the day of our last TOTA Board meeting. I have a rule that I should not drive extra to recycle since using gas might defeat any help to the environment. However, since our Marion recycling center burnt, the accumulation of glass in our garage was really bugging me. Back in March, I loaded the trunk with my two large boxes of glass needing to be discarded, and confidently started to the north side of Carbondale, where two or three people had told me Southern Recycling had moved from the days I used to take stuff there when they were in the heart of downtown Carbondale. That day I wondered around in the industrial park and on roads where I thought people meant until I ran out of time and had to quit. I was quite chagrined to have to unload my two boxes of glass back in the garage that night.

Today I allowed plenty of time and armed myself with the address and phone number. I was sure I had just overlooked it somehow before. I had been told you could actually drive inside the building and unload your unwanted debris. Surely, I would find a building that large.

When I did not see it this time either, I stopped and asked a couple of people, but they had never heard of the recycling center. It did not help that I could not read my own handwriting and thought my “W” was an “N” for North. One man, who hadn't heard of Southern Recycling, said he had heard of West Chestnut, but not North Chestnut. He was right, of course.

But a guy working on his truck knew where the recycling center was and gave me good directions, but either he got his left/right mixed up or I did when I heard him, so I wondered out of my way turning right when I should have turned left. I went around a couple of curves as he said--but in the wrong way. By this time, I was out in the country and enjoying the drive at least. I tried not to think what burning gas did to the environment.

Finally, I did what I should have done in the beginning, called the phone number, and got directions. The very friendly voice gave me directions although I realized later she did not know how far north I was when I told her I was in the north side of Carbondale. She said Davies Street would run right into West Chestnut. And it did, but I was way north of anywhere that I could find Davies Street.

Nevertheless, her nice voice and laughter on the phone gave me confidence that the place was about where I had now decided it must be, and I found West Chestnut and the convenient recycling drive-in center. I was immediately helped by an employee there, who turned out to be a neighbor of mine down at Creal Springs. I was glad to meet him, but even gladder to get rid of those boxes of glass and the huge box of newspapers I had accumulated. And gladder yet to know I will not have to look the next time I want to recycle in Carbondale. I still had time for a couple more errands and got to my 6 p.m. meeting on time.

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